


The Last Passenger

by sulkyselkie



Series: Postmortem love at first sight [1]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, It's an AU set in the HxH world I guess?, KuroKuratober 2020, M/M, The car from Yorknew, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:55:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27359905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sulkyselkie/pseuds/sulkyselkie
Summary: It was a typical busy work day for Kurapika when he hailed that taxicab. Little did he know he’d meet Chrollo, a man as handsome as he is mysterious. A man he can’t help but be drawn to. A man with a strange aura that sends a shiver down his spine…
Relationships: Kurapika/Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer
Series: Postmortem love at first sight [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019899
Comments: 15
Kudos: 80





	The Last Passenger

**Author's Note:**

> My last fic for KuroKuratober! I wrestled with writing this, so I needed more time than I thought and ended up finishing it after October ended. (I was really hoping to have it done for Halloween!) I hope it still counts? This is for the prompt “Backseat.”

As he pushed his way out of the apartment building's lobby door, Kurapika squinted up at the sky and sighed. He'd always been so excited at the thought of traveling as a child, dreaming of voyages to mysterious places on planes, trains, and ships... Now that he did it for a living, it was significantly less exciting.

_I suppose I should be grateful for the fact that I don't need to catch a redeye this time_ , he thought as he dragged his wheeled suitcase down the steps, his carryon duffel bag banging into his side with each step. 

And to be fair: it was just a two-hour flight, he didn't need to be at the conference for the full weekend, and he would receive Monday off in exchange for being swapped in as the presentation's lead speaker at the last minute. 

But there were any number of things he'd prefer to be doing. Kurapika thought longingly of the books that he kept buying and meaning to read. He'd started stacking them on the floor next to the couch, and they'd reached almost to the bottom of the armrest.

For now, though, it couldn't be helped. He'd do his best to get through the conference, nail the presentation, and spend Monday however he saw fit. _This will be over before I realize it_ , he told himself. _Now I just need to get to the airport._ As luck would have it, a lone taxi was slowly meandering down his street, and pulled over the second Kurapika hailed it.

The driver hopped out and helped Kurapika stow his luggage in the trunk. Kurapika glanced through the window and noticed that there was another passenger seated inside. It wasn't unheard of around here for taxi drivers to carpool passengers during busy times. Perhaps the man's destination would somehow intersect with his own. Well, he was arriving exceptionally early for his flight, so a delay to drop off another passenger wouldn't inconvenience him. (And changing taxis would probably be more trouble than it was worth.)

Mind set, he pulled open the car door and slipped inside. As he buckled his seatbelt, Kurapika glanced at the other passenger in the backseat. The heavy winter coat was oddly out of place in late May, but Yorknew was home to so many eccentrics that this type of fashion choice was simply par for the course here.

"Lingon Airport, please," he directed the driver as he settled back into his seat.

Pulling out his phone, Kurapika wondered if the stranger would try to talk to him. Normally he'd do whatever he could to dissuade taxi drivers and fellow passengers from chatting at him. He wasn't the most sociable of people, and aimless chat wore him out quickly.

But the man seemed content to watch the city blocks stretch by, sparing not a glance for his fellow passenger.

The silence that stretched on was almost companionable. Kurapika typed out a few emails, losing himself in the minutiae of work. But slowly, he began to lose focus. It wasn't that discussing shift scheduling wasn't mind-numbing (it **was** ), but that there was... **something**. Kurapika couldn't articulate it any better than that.

He dropped his phone in his lap, staring at it until his eyes unfocused. Something wasn't quite right. Something that raised the hair on his arms. Something that whispered at the edge of his consciousness and sent a small shiver down his spine. There was a strange atmosphere in this taxicab. Kurapika glanced at the driver through the closed partition. _No...I don't feel like it's him..._

_Then it's..._

He glanced sidelong at the man sitting next to him. A few years older than Kurapika, perhaps. Jet-black hair. Pale skin. Wearing a heavy black winter coat with white fur trim over a white button-down shirt and black pants. Maybe it was the coat that was bothering him. It was truly hideous. 

Kurapika couldn't quite put his finger on what it was exactly, but he felt like this man had something to do with the strange aura in the taxicab. He obviously had no proof, just a...a hunch, to be perfectly honest. Kurapika was a person of solid logic and careful reasoning; feelings and guesses and hunches were far removed from his orderly world. _And yet..._

The man's gaze flickered away from whatever he'd been looking at, and caught Kurapika's reflection in the car window. He gave a start at the assessing stare that was scrutinizing him, and Kurapika immediately blushed. He'd been so pleased about being left alone, and here he was, bothering another passenger over something so silly and inane.

Slowly, the brunet man turned to face Kurapika, eyes widening as their gazes met. A look of shock and bewilderment slowly crept over his face.

Embarrassment burning him alive, Kurapika hastened to apologize. "I beg your pardon, I didn't mean to stare. I just..." he trailed away, unsure of how to continue. _How on earth should I explain this? "I got a creepy vibe off of you and started staring to see if you were an axe murderer?" Should I just keep my mouth shut?_

As Kurapika spoke, the other man had relaxed noticeably, lips curving into a warm smile.

"It's all right. You startled me, that's all," the man hastened to reassure him. "I was just lost in thought and didn't realize another passenger was here. If anything, **I** should apologize for not acknowledging you earlier."

Kurapika felt himself blush harder as he recalled his previous relief at being ignored. This stranger was unexpectedly kind and courteous, and Kurapika felt a little ashamed of himself for suspecting him. Relief and lingering mortification mingled in the pit of his stomach. "I suppose we're both even, then," he found himself saying. 

"The slate is wiped clean," the brunet man nodded. "Let's start over, shall we? I'm Chrollo."

"My name is Kurapika. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Kurapika, hm?" Chrollo spoke it slowly, lingering over the syllables. "What an intriguing name."

Something burned in Kurapika's chest as his heart beat faster. He hadn’t realized at first, but Chrollo was **very** handsome. He tried to keep from staring too much, too long. But Kurapika found himself drawn to the other man's eyes like a moth to a flame. They were a deep gray, large and liquid. Bright, like clouds over the full moon, and fringed with long, dark lashes. 

And those bright, liquid **beautiful** gray eyes were looking back at him with curiosity and frank interest. 

Kurapika had never been good at the whole 'relationship' thing, wouldn't have time for one even if he did find someone. He’d been disappointed too many times to feel at ease with others and held people at an arm’s length as a result. Something in those eyes, though, made him forget all of that and want to reach out.

Desperate to make up for his first impression, Kurapika asked Chrollo about his interests, and was inordinately pleased to learn the other man was a fellow bibliophile. Chrollo was an engaging conversation partner, and Kurapika’s usual reserve melted away. The uneasy atmosphere dissipated, making Kurapika wonder if he’d just imagined the whole thing.

They fell into an easy conversation as they discussed their shared passion. Their first books, their favorites, their guilty pleasures, the worst ones they’d picked up. The books that stayed with you when you least expected it, phrases whispering to you in the dark of the night. The ones you couldn’t put down, the ones you had to put down because every word was exquisite torture.

Chrollo was surprisingly well-read, with a firm preference for poetry and the classics. He had an attractive voice, soft and deep with a dark, rich timbre. Frankly, his voice was the sexiest Kurapika had ever listened to, and he could have listened to him talk for hours. Hell, he would have been fine listening to Chrollo read the phone book. 

His voice brought to mind lazy mornings curled up in bed with rain pattering on the roof, crisp pages turning under dry fingertips, curling wisps of steam rising from a coffee mug. It was nostalgia for something Kurapika hadn’t realized he’d missed. He was shivering again, but for a very different, more pleasurable reason.

“Do you have anything you’re reading right now?” Kurapika queried, guiltily casting his mind back to the stack of books next to his couch.

The brunet offered him a wry smile. "I haven't really read much lately, I'm afraid."

"You're very busy, I take it?" That made sense, Kurapika was much the same.

"You could say that I'm always on the go," Chrollo offered. There was an odd twist to his smile, and a sad, pained look in his eyes.

Kurapika faltered at that look. He hadn’t intended to upset Chrollo. “I haven’t either, but I don’t have much of an excuse, I suppose. I’m always at work,” he confessed.

“You didn’t bring anything along?” Chrollo asked him gently, as if picking up on Kurapika’s discomfort.

“I...There’s always something that has to get done. If there’s work remaining, it doesn’t feel right to indulge myself.”

“But there’s always work remaining.” The other man nodded, then fell silent for a moment. “There’s nothing wrong with taking time for yourself. You’d be surprised at how little of it we have. One day, you think about all those moments that you spent obsessing over trivialities. Before you realize it, it’s too late. Time is infinitely precious, Kurapika.” He laughed, soft and wistful. “I’m sorry for lecturing you. The regrets of a lifetime are spilling out, I see. Learn from my mistakes; live to the fullest while you have the opportunity.”

“You speak as though your time has run out,” Kurapika murmured.

Chrollo smiled and said nothing.

His words had struck a chord in Kurapika’s heart, speaking to the deepest part that rebelled at his continuous sacrifice of his personal time. Something about Chrollo’s demeanor, the tired and wistful look in his eyes, subtly persuaded Kurapika to heed his words. 

“Perhaps...I will.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Chrollo’s mouth. He looked relieved, as though he’d taken Kurapika’s workaholic tendencies to heart. Nobody outside of his parents and closest friends had ever shared this level of concern for Kurapika's well-being. Something about this man--his dark, exquisite beauty, his gentle and rueful eyes, his passion and wisdom--spoke to Kurapika on a deeper level than anyone he’d ever met before.

Normally, Kurapika wasn’t the type to make a move. And surely, someone as eloquent and beautiful as Chrollo must already have a lover. But over the last hour, Chrollo's smiles had been growing warmer, the look in his eyes softer. And if Kurapika was not missing the mark, Chrollo had been glancing at his lips pretty frequently.

_Screw your courage to the sticking place, and we’ll not fail._ Encouraging words from an unlikely source; couldn’t the Bard have given the line to a more appropriate play?

"We’re almost at the airport,” Kurapika said slowly, carefully choosing his words in an effort to not embarrass himself this time. “I’d love to talk more with you when I return from the conference. About books, or my travels, or...or anything, really,” he stumbled over himself with growing eagerness. “Could I treat you to coffee sometime?”

Something like pained desire flashed in Chrollo's eyes for a moment. "While I would love to, I can't," he said softly.

"Because of your work?"

"...Something like that, yes."

Disappointment and chagrin twisted Kurapika's stomach into knots. Although he tried not to let it show on his face, something must have slipped through, because Chrollo was suddenly leaning towards him. His hands were clasped together tightly on his lap, shaking slightly. "If circumstances were different, I would have asked you out far earlier in this conversation. Please don't misunderstand. It isn’t you,” Chrollo urged him. So sincere and regretful as he quickly dashed the blond’s hopes.

“It’s just the timing,” Kurapika found himself saying dully.

“I’m sorry. More than you could possibly know.”

Kurapika nodded as he swallowed down the lump in his throat. His gaze dropped to his lap. _I can’t be petulant. He owes me nothing._

Chrollo’s gaze flickered out the window. “Well, we’re just about there,” he said.

The blond’s gaze rose to meet Chrollo’s. “I don’t suppose we’ll meet again?” His voice sounded odd to himself, as though it wasn’t his.

Without hesitation, the other man shook his head. “I don’t think we will. But, Kurapika?” His liquid gray eyes grew impossibly warm and tender. “This has been the most incredible--no, **wonderful** hour and a half I’ve spent in years. I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

_Why are you telling me this? You’re not making this easier on me_. Kurapika didn’t trust himself to say any of this aloud at this point.

“I wish I could have met you earlier,” Chrollo said so quietly he was almost whispering.

“I do, too.” Kurapika’s voice was quiet and small, and it took everything to keep it steady.

They fell into silence, just looking at each other. A minute later, the taxi pulled up to the curb of the passenger drop-off area outside the airport’s main terminal. The spell was broken. 

With trembling hands, Kurapika put his phone into his pocket and unbuckled his seatbelt. Trying to ignore the feeling that he was leaving something important behind, Kurapika opened the door and climbed out of the taxi.

“Kurapika,” Chrollo suddenly called.

The blond turned around, looking at him questioningly.

Chrollo looked at him for a long moment, as if committing his face to memory. “I won’t forget you.” His voice was firm with conviction, tender with longing. 

For all the stories he’d read of lovers’ partings, of farewell speeches, of dramatic exits, Kurapika could think of nothing to say. Or, perhaps there was nothing he could bring himself to say. He simply offered Chrollo a smile, as warm and affectionate as he could manage, and shut the door behind him.

_I’ll be fine. This was a pleasant interlude. It was never meant to be anything more. Just like chatting with a stranger in line on your coffee break._ Maybe if Kurapika told himself this enough, he’d come to believe it. 

The driver had popped open the trunk’s lid, and helped Kurapika retrieve his luggage. As he pulled several bills from his wallet for the cab fare, Kurapika idly wondered just **where** it was that Chrollo had been going. He wasn’t getting out of the car, so he wasn’t going to the airport. “I hope that this hasn’t inconvenienced him,” Kurapika murmured, concerned that he might have caused problems for the brunet.

“Inconvenience? Who, me?” The driver frowned, scratching his neck. “Pal, you just tell me where you wanna go, and I’ll drive you there. Doesn’t matter if it’s Swardani or Glam Glam, I’ll drive anywhere. Long as ya pay, that is,” he added as he snatched the bills from Kurapika’s hand.

“Not you, Chrollo.” The driver stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “You know, the last passenger you picked up. The man in the backseat with me.” Kurapika gestured toward the backseat, turning to glance through the window. His hand trembled. His eyes grew wide.

“What are you talking about? You’re the only passenger. Have been the whole ride here.”

Kurapika stood, frozen, staring at the empty space where Chrollo had sat. "Have a safe flight," the driver told him, and shut the trunk lid, before sliding behind the wheel again. 

He could only watch as the taxi pulled away from the drop-off area, looping down the ramp before pulling onto the highway and disappearing into the horizon.


End file.
